


Words that Define

by blue_daffodil



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Backstory Refrences, Character Study, Gen, Inspired by Meta, Introspection, Meta, No clue where this is going, Tags May Change, and no clue how many chapters there will be, at least 8 tho, background beau/yasha, background veth bernatto/yeza bernatto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_daffodil/pseuds/blue_daffodil
Summary: define[dih-fahyn]1. to explain or identify the nature or essential qualities of; describe2. to lay down clearly; to specifyorshort character studies based around a specific word I feel match each character





	1. Fjord

powerless

[pou-er-lis]

_adjective_

  1. unable to cause change or affect a situation
  2. lacking power to act; helpless; incapable of performing an action



 

Fjord was used to the feeling. Since he was a kid, he’d grown to know the feeling well. He hadn’t been able to change how people had looked at him, like he was just another mouth and nothing more, and what they’d seen, a chubby little half-orc that couldn’t defend himself from their sneers.

But now, he could finally pass it by like it was some traveler on the road. He swung the mysterious blade in the air, watched it glitter in the light as he walked along the beach. The barnacles and other sea paraphernalia dulled the falchion’s gleam. But the weight and sight of it was… comforting?

It didn’t matter. There was a power to it. Guilt grabbed at him as he walked, slowing his feet. He’d only gotten this after the wreck. After Sabien, that fucking traitor, had tried to kill them all with his little sabotage.

He’d been powerless to do anything. And now the crew… Vandren…

He won’t be powerless again, not with this falchion, where ever it came from.

 

It’d happened again. He’d been powerless, _again._ And he hadn’t been able to do anything for anyone _again_!

Powerless to protect him and Jester and Yasha from getting captured by slavers.

Powerless to get them out of there.

Powerless to fight the Iron Shepherds.

Powerless to prevent Molly’s _death_.

Gods. He’d been powerless, so fucking powerless. Even with this sword and all the powers he’s gotten, he had been completely useless. Worse than useless. He’d been a burden.

And now he sits, somewhere unimportant a week out from Zadash, staring at nothing. He stares at nothing and thinks to himself that he wasn’t supposed to be powerless anymore. He was supposed to be able to control his life.

He sits and stares, and Fjord knows he isn’t young like the rest of them. Sure, they’re all a bunch of different races in the Mighty Nein with the different rates of growing and adulthood that comes with. But, he’s still one of the oldest in most ways.

He shouldn’t be having this crisis again. Fjord already had a youth he’d struggled to define himself in, a long crisis of identity that Vandren had helped him navigate. Sure, the blade had changed everything. It had given him a second chance to be someone. Not just another sailor, not another average person without magic in a world of wonders. Not another powerless person, subject to fate and the whims of magic’s mysteries. Yeah, he knew almost nothing, but he was finding how it all worked, where he was meant to be. But fucking now?

Fjord sighs, runs his hands through his hair. His thoughts circle each other. That feeling is in his throat, making each breath a little too ragged.

 

The ship’s name had been a fucking portent, a sign to tell him and everyone else just how fucked up everything was going to become. _The Mistake_. Yeah. Yeah, this had all been a mistake from start to finish.

Sure, the rest of the Mighty Nein had been supportive of finding out the truth of his patron and his past without reservation. Sure, they had been “equal” partners with Avantika. And sure, he knew with their kind of luck and the absolute mess they all were, except maybe Caduceus (but even then, Fjord wasn’t too sure. Dead people tea? The maybe mind reading? Fuck, way too weird), that everything would probably go at least sideways, if not straight to disaster.

And all through out this, he’d still been so damn powerless.

His memories and knowledge of sailing, while decent for a quartermaster, had almost not been enough and he’d expected too much of everyone else’s knowledge.

Beau, Jester, Caduceus all nearly died (or at least got _way_ too close to it) on that island where he’d failed to kill Avantika.

That partnership with Avantika could’ve meant one wrong slip and they’d all have been _dead_.

And he won’t lie to himself, though the sex had been… great, it left a bad feeling all under his skin. Manipulation and lying that way had felt… Fjord doesn’t want to think too much about it.

And the goddamn pirate island. Of course they’d get banished from a pirate island. He shouldn’t have expected any less from these absolutely awful, weird, wonderful disasters he’d thrown his lot with.

But that goliath had almost not believed them. That fire had almost cost them everything, led to their heads on spikes (and he wasn’t entirely convinced it hadn’t cost Caleb something).

He needed to be stronger, he knew that. But he also had to be less impulsive. Yet, that wasn’t as big a problem, he didn’t think so at least.

Fjord had to be stronger. He had to stop being powerless when things, himself, each other, the world, fate, decided to just fuck them all over. And having seen Avantika’s power, he knew what he needed.

(He needed to know the truth about Vandren, who he really was. He needed to know the truth about Uko’toa and what this all meant. He needed to know the truth of everything, really.)

He needed that second orb, and he got it. And a blood oath with Caleb and Jeter’s disappointment.

He needed to get to the second temple. And now they stood in front of it, his undead servant having made a way for them.

Fjord takes a deep breath, tries to still his heart. He doesn’t look at the expressions on the faces on his friends. He knows this is a massive risk. He knows everyone would rather be on shore, and Fjord would also rather have them there to. He knows there’s a risk doing this, that this choice could have the biggest risks out of his last few choices.

But he’s tired of being powerless.

He won’t be powerless anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think, this is my first fanfic ever.  
> and this specific chapter, and the itch in general to write definition based character studies/introspection come from this post  
> and here's my tumblr [sevenredrobes](https://sevenredrobes.tumblr.com/)


	2. Beau

responsibility

[ri-spon-suh-bil-i-tee]

_noun_

  1. the state or fact of being responsible, answerable, or accountable for something within one's power, control, or management
  2. an instance of being responsible
  3. a particular burden of obligation upon one who is responsible
  4. a person or thing for which one is responsible
  5. reliability or dependability, especially in meeting debts or payments



She remembered growing up vividly. She might not have a perfect memory like Caleb, but Beau remembers her childhood clearly. She still hated it.

Hated how her father would try to force responsibility on her as he fled from it. Listened to cards drawn by liars looking for a couple quick coins instead of taking care of shit himself. Beau’s skin still sometimes crawls when she sees some schmuck listen to those things. (She knows that’s what first made her hate Molly. Didn’t help that he was also a kind of arrogant know-it-all.)

And she remembered all the duties her father tried to put on her. Beau doesn’t know how to feel anymore about how she handled it. Stealing, swindling, blackmailing and just generally being an absolute asshole, flipping her middle finger at everyone and everything all the time. Metaphorically, but more literally. Sometimes she would smile, when she remembered what she’d done and the people she’d met. But Beau would feel the smile slip as she remembered the hollowness.

That hollowness that had slowly, slowly been shrinking. It had shrunk maybe like a sixteenth of an inch when her dad had had her kidnapped by the Cobalt Soul. Learning to fight had been fun. But it had really started shrinking when she’d met these assholes.

She glanced over at Jester, where she slept with her face smooshed into the pillow. Beau hadn’t had a friend like Jester before. She probably hadn’t had a real friend, period, before Jester. She smiled at that, and at the sleeping tiefling, and then flipped to be on her back and staring at the ceiling. Beau liked the others, she wouldn’t have traveled to Zadash with them otherwise, but Jester, and Fjord to a miniscule extant, were the ones she was closest to.

It was part her knowing them longer, though not by much, and in part because they just got her. They took her asshole nature in stride. Jester liked it, especially when, if you looked at it right, her actions pranked someone in that light-hearted way Jester reveled in. And Fjord, he took it in stride but also helped her be less abrasive (not in the way her father or his roped in tutors tried to, he just worked with her). Beau liked them. She’d help them as much as she could.

 

Beau hadn’t fucking asked for this, this _responsibility_. She’d just asked the damn dirty wizard why he hated fire. Before this Beau had figured it had something to do with losing someone. And, fuck, technically she had been right.

Now she was awake and alone in a room with most members of the snoring Mighty Nein, and she knew now. She knew why Caleb was so fucked up, and she had to keep her promise to keep a secret. She hadn’t wanted that kind of responsibility, she never had. But Beau had it now, and she didn’t know what to do with it.

 

Yasha came with them for the two jobs for the Gentleman, and Beau was glad for that. She and Molly were the main close-range fighters, and though she was pretty damn good and he could pull his weight, having her along was great. There wasn’t another reason, of course. Yeah, she’s hot and pretty and an amazingly badass fighter and was super cool and was weirdly adorable with her awkwardness…

Where was she? Oh, yeah. It was nice having another melee fighter, especially since Molly was honestly kind of fragile. Not the most, but definitely up there. Maybe he could be called badass, not that she’d ever say it to his smug face (the peacock tattoo was very fitting, she could give him that), but with having to injure himself to use his powers, it just was more strategic to have someone else that could fight up close and shoulder the responsibility of keeping all the squishy little magic fighters safe and not dead. She liked all of them too much, though she doubted she’d ever be able to say it to their faces. The best she could do was keep them safe. As the toughest one, it was kind of her job.

 

Beau didn’t know whose responsibility this was. It all came down to Lorenzo, it was his fucking fault of fucking course. But, maybe, if she’d been just a little more proactive, maybe a little faster or tougher Molly wouldn’t be dead. Or maybe if she hadn’t believed Keg wholly and had taken her intel with a grain of salt. Or maybe if she’d taken first watch then Fjord, Jester, and Yasha would never have been taken by the fucking Iron Shepherds.

The monks had trained Beau to be able to think logically. Or at least deduce shit even when fucking upset, or no. Not upset. Angry? Sad? Livid? Mourning? Guilty?

It wasn’t hers, or Caleb’s or Nott’s or (probably) even Keg’s. It was Lorenzo’s fucking responsibility. And as she fell asleep and the night continued, her last discussion with Molly and everything she’d said at his grave ran through her mind. She resolved, as she fell asleep, to become more responsible. More responsible for her… allies ( _friends, they were all her friends and she won’t fucking-_ ) and her own damn attitude.

But first things first, Lorenzo was going to fucking pay.

 

Their new ship had the most appropriate name an inanimate object could have. It was a decent description of them meeting Avantika, though she was damn hot. It was a decent description of the whole island and the first temple of Uk’otoa.

But it wasn’t a description of their fight on the island, their win against Avantika. Sure, they’d been banished from the Revelry, which was kind of funny. Apparently they were too much even for an island of pirates. But being too much wasn’t a problem.

It hadn’t been a mistake.

Beau had let herself bask in her pride. They’d all handled it damn well. This was a win, and they deserved it. They deserved to have a solid, not double-edged, win.

 

Maybe her dad should have shipped her off to sea instead of getting the monks to kidnap her. Beau smiles at that thought. And then she gets back to work.

She’s Fjord’s first mate now. Beau has a crew she’s responsible for, which included the rest of the Mighty Nein too, and she’s going to do things right. Sure, shit had gone sideways with Dashilla and Twiggy’s Mechanical Ball of Doom (nothing fucking happy about it) but she had mead now for the crew.

And Beau and Jester had had a talk, a damn good one too. She’d even successfully comforted her, her first and greatest friend. She won’t abandon her again. Beau will keep a closer eye on Jester.

And once they’d finished helping Fjord with his personal quest, and once he was back to his regular annoying self instead of his reckless, unthinking asshole self, she was going to buy everyone a round of drinks. Hopefully Yasha would stick around for that.

Yeah, she was going to buy everyone drinks, pastries for Jester, some paper for Caleb, help out Nott however she’d like in a tiny heist, find a cool garden for Caduceus to chill in (he will probably need a quiet place to get away from them all), she’ll find some new, weird flower for Yasha, and return Fjord’s politeness lessons with some she knew and he apparently didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to try and update next wednesday, and keep to that as the update schedule for this fic!  
> this chapter was inspired generally by this post  
> and here's my tumblr at [](https://sevenredrobes.tumblr.com/>sevenredrobes)


	3. Caduceus Clay

trust

[truhst]

_noun_

  1. reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.
  2. a person on whom or thing on which one relies
  3. the condition of one to whom something has been entrusted.
  4. charge, custody, or care
  5. something committed or entrusted to one's care for use or safekeeping, as an office, duty, or the like; responsibility; charge.
  6. _Archaic_ reliability



_verb_

  1. to rely upon or place confidence in, to depend on
  2. to have confidence; hope
  3. to believe.
  4. to expect confidently; hope



Their graveyard was a peaceful place. Even with the growing corruption of the woods, the garden and the graves had been little areas protected from the woods, peaceful in a way the surrounding nature rarely was. But, that was a graveyard’s own nature. To be peaceful, so that those who mourn can have a place for their emotions. Mourners trust in that sacred silence, after the rites of passage have been performed to their and the deceased’s wishes, to be there to sit in.

Obviously, though, with him and his siblings it had never been entirely quiet or peaceful. Though Caduceus hadn’t really been one for roughhousing like his sisters, he often got pulled into it. They always tried to keep out of any mourner’s way, but sometimes they would.

Some of them got angry, but most liked it, weirdly. Caduceus gathered that it was the same reason why they liked the gardens. The reminder of life, especially after the reminder of death, was comforting. It made it easier to trust the cycle of life then. Made the Wildmother seem even more present. Children playing and flowers growing in a graveyard was natural. It was just life, existing because of death.

He took pride in that.

 

Caduceus hadn’t been the first of his siblings to be taught the family trade, to be trained to be a cleric for the Wildmother. But he was very good at it. He had the temperament for it, apparently.

He was calm, thoughtful, and quiet. Unlike a lot of his siblings. Quickly, his parents trust his intuition to lead him. They trust him to help with gardening, preparation, and talking.

He liked it. It could sometimes be a little much. Caduceus was one of the better at healing and medicine, so his siblings would turn to him for that. He was one of the better at gardening, so he did it the most. He was one of the easier to talk to, so he talked with whoever needed it.

 

And as the corruption had grown worse in the woods, everyone began to slowy leave. One by one they went, to try and discover the cause. He trustsed them to succeed in the search, however long it takes. And they trusted that the graveyard would be taken care of.

It got a little lonelier, as the once overcrowded home empties. He barely noticed it, since he had a job to do. Caduceus is a cleric to the Wildmother, and his duty is to the graves and to protecting the natural order of life and death.

He and his family that remained tended to the dead. And each that left trusts in the ones remaining to keep the graveyard going, to keep it free of corruption. Everyone trusted that one of the Clay family would always be there for the dead (but there's always an undercurrent that Caduceus can pick up on that everyone really expects him to stay. He's fine with that. Really. He can’t imagine leaving home).

And eventually, he does end up being the last one.

Caduceus watched over the graveyard, doing his best to protect it. He held tight to his trust in his family and the Wildmother. Time passed as he kept to his duties, and without everyone else he kind of lost track of it, but it won’t matter. Life just goes on, no need to number it. It’ll just happen.

Caduceus was where he needed to be, and he’ll trust in whatever will happen.

 

He wasn’t so much woken up as startled from relaxing by the intruders. They were an interesting bunch. Definetly not the normal riffraff he had to deal with, like ghosts or corrupted animal life.

There were five of them, and they were all grieving someone or something.

One was a firbolg like him, except with brown fuzz and black-brown hair. She carried herself like a mother, all warmth and iron. But there was rage and worry in her, driving her, along with a grief that she hadn’t been able to do more. Another was a dwarf woman, pale skinned and the loudest in her clanging armor. With her she held two griefs, one old and one fresh, and a whole lot of guilt.

Neither were too odd. People always come here in grief. They grieve for what has passed and what could have been. But those two didn’t carry sorrow.

The other three did. Rage, grief, guilt and sorrow were etched into the three which were obviously the closest. It was a little odd, two humans and a goblin, he’d never heard of that before. But, well he didn’t know a lot.

The brown skinned monk in blue, she was young and angry. The pale skinned ginger, he seemed as if this grief had just added another metaphorical ghost to haunt him. And the little goblin (woman? teen? he wasn’t sure, she carried herself both ways) seemed to be trying her best.

But he did know the grief they carried. The grief for a too early death. A sorrow that was becoming rage.

It was easy to offer tea and comfort.

Then the ginger wizard asked for his help. To go and aid in taking down those Iron Shepherds. He’d said yes, easily enough.

Their appearance had felt like a sign. Perhaps it had been, perhaps he’d just leapt at the chance to leave. He had had a feeling, a little nudge for months to move on…

Well, he just had to trust.

 

The Iron Sheperds hadn’t been easy to take down. But they did, and he helped the three find their surviving friends. He stuck with them, kept his distance and helped with grief when the time came. Caduceus followed them deeper into the empire, into a criminal’s den and employ. Odd, but he trusted them.

Trusted them into Nicodranas, and wow. Caduceus had not expected that. He really had not.

Cold, miserable, and doubting, Jester offered comfort. It had been awhile, even before his family had started leaving, he’d been the comforter not the comforted. He decided to trust her and her reassurances.

And as the entire situation with _The Mistake_ keept spiraling into them becoming pirates, infiltrating a temple, him nearly drowning again (maybe this part of the Wildmother’s domain was just not for him…), and then the Revelry.

They succeeded, in the end, and he was relievedthat after this, they could finally get back to land.

 

The last few days have been trying, and Caduceus knows he can trust these people, but things are spiraling, again. The arcane orb and its hidden dungeon was a major blow, and Caduceus can see cracks appearing. He’s seen that Fjord and Caleb are the main leaders, prone to being the ones to step up, and he trusts their judgement, but maybe he should speak up.

The dragon had been a disaster, and he hopes the less visible wounds heal. Talking with Beau helped them both, he thinks. He hopes tomorrow that the rest will talk about it, help smooth over some things.

And later, after everyone’s feelings have been addressed, Yasha trusts in him and Jester enough to share her pain and guilt. This territory familiar to him. To console a person in their grief, listen to their sorrow. Hers is an old one, but it still hurts her. Caduceus is glad that, despite the circumstances that led to him meeting and joining the Mighty Nein, Yasha is fine with him knowing so much about her and her past.

When Jester brings up how both Molly and Zuella are still with Yasha, he simply nods along. She knows people, and knows Yasha, and so knows just what to say. And she’s quite right, the dead are always with their survivors in their hearts (and hopefully only in that way, the dead do not need to walk in anyway but metaphorical).

He sits with them and his tea, and together they drink. Caduceus likes this. He gets them, and they get him. It’s nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here’s my tumblr


	4. Yasha

guilt

[gilt]

_noun_

  1. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong; culpability
  2. a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some action morally or legally wrong, whether real or imagined



It made it hard to move sometimes. Hard to breathe, to believe, to connect. The guilt had crushed her like an avalanche once, but now it only crushed like a stone dropped on her foot. Yasha tried not to feel bad about that. Time dulls all things, she knew, but she wished emotions were not so much like swords.

She lived, Zuala did not, and Yasha was not even there for the funeral. There were holes in her mind, time missing. She’d wandered far and wide, somehow coming to an altar of the Stormlord. She served him now.

To follow him was not an issue. He saved her, and now she serves. Maybe he knew what happened. Maybe he knew where Zuala is.

Maybe he will tell her, if she remained strong.

Stronger than she had been for Zuala.

 

The Dwendalian Empire was a brighter place than Xhorhas. Greener, more blue skies, and so many flowers. They were beautiful, the sort of thing that Zuala would have loved. Just as soft, bright and pretty as she had been. If only Yasha had a way to keep each lovely flower she found. Then she could bring them back to her, when she found her.

 

It had been an accident, random chance. Yasha had been walking through a small town, the first she’d been in in a while, when she’d heard a commotion. A hand on her blade, she walked to the sounds. On a small side street, she saw the source.

A lavender tiefling, dressed in wonderfully bright clothes, was trying to calm a small group of human men. But the tiefling’s bullshit lies (even Yasha could tell, it was so obvious) were just annoying the men. So Yasha stepped in. She was taller, stronger, and scarier. And the humans left very quickly.

The tiefling turned to Yasha and said (she remembers this and remembers it clearly), “Thanks for the help dear! Say, I haven’t seen you in town before. You a traveler?”

She nodded, and he asked, “Looking for a job? I’m part of a carnival, and we could always use some more muscle! Bo’s more for looking pretty than being strong.”

“And you aren’t? Since you are in a lot of colors and very bright, and, uh,” she trailed, feeling more awkward as he kept grinning.

“Of course I have to be! I’d be useless at my jobs if I wasn’t! By the way, the name’s Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends.”

“Yasha,” she’d said, startled into telling him.

And she followed him to the carnival.

They were weird, weirder than her. But they accepted her easily. There had been some discussion, whether another mouth was entirely necessary, and that discussion only got more heated when she warned that the Stormlord would sometimes call on her and that she must obey his commands. Molly eventually pulled aside Gustav, Desmond, and Orna. He whispered somethings that she couldn’t hear, distracted as she was by the little dwarf girl asking her questions.

After that, she was a part of the carnival.

 

The first day, they tried to figure out if she could be part of an act. It… didn’t last long. So, Yasha was just designated as just the muscle. She helped pitch tents, moved and packed the heavy shit, and guarded the carnival as well as one woman could.

Since she was the newest member, excluding Molly, she bunked with him. They often talked, especially when neither slept or a nightmare from one woke the other. A lot of it was her listening to Molly tell stories. Some of it she was sure was true, until she saw that twinkle in his flat red eyes. Others she knew were flat out lies. But the ones about the carnival and the towns they’d passed through, they were true.

Rarely, it would be her doing all the talking. But when it was her, he listened closely. Describing the places she had passed through or her home in Xhorhas was easy sometimes, until she came to the part where Zuala was part of the story. Yasha would choke up then. Molly didn’t always know what to do, but no matter what he found a way to distract her.

Yasha sometimes thought that Molly and Zuala would have adored each other. And then she would have to stop thinking.

 

The first time she left and came back, he’d been bother furious and overjoyed. She didn’t understand why he’d been angry, she had told them all that she would sometimes leave to serve the Stormlord. His anger quickly left, but the next time she made sure to promise that she would return. It was the least she could do for the tiefling.

By the third time she had come back, as she had promised, he no longer worried over her when she returned or was anything but happy to have her back. It was odd, she sometimes thought, how much he seemed to crave stability even with how he seemed to love novelty. The two were kind of opposites, as far as she knew.

Eventually, she learned why. A few careless words from the other carnival members and Molly being absolutely shocked by something normal (she couldn’t remember now what it was, just that it was something that people who’d lived for longer than him knew existed) for her to figure out the basics. She asked to know more one night, and he told her. By now she knew him well enough to know he was telling her the absolute truth. It hurt him some. So she told him her past.

Both stories came out in piecemeal. It wasn’t because of hiding anything intentionally, it was just because it became apart of their normal private conversations.

Once in some town square she’d heard a bard sing some song she only half remembered. It was something on the nature of soulmates, how there were different kinds for different aspects of your life.

Yasha sometimes would fall asleep wishing her wife and her greatest friend could have met.

 

Meetings were an odd thing. Though she agreed to being a part of their group, eventually named the Mighty Nein (such a weird name, but the explanation from Molly helped her see the humor in it, Yasha kind of liked how confusing it was, it matched the group), Molly was the main reason. He needed someone to depend on, just like she did. And where he goes, she’ll find him.

That didn’t mean she didn’t like the group. From the first meeting in Trostenwald, they seemed a fun bunch. People she wouldn’t mind getting to know. Thinking back, that might have been why the Stormlord hadn’t called on her for so long after meeting them again.

So that she could truly learn about these people she and Molly had met by chance. Jester was wonderfully boisterous and weird, a good friend who could go toe to toe with Molly wonderfully. Fjord did a good job keeping them all grounded, even if he was just as odd as the rest. Nott was skittish and odd, but she was wise, like some of the elders of her tribe had been. Caleb made sense, he was quiet and off like she was. And Beau, she was… she was brash but fun, and talking to her was different from the others in a way that was half-familiar but impossible.

The couple of weeks after finding them in Zadash, they’d been some of the best days she’d had in a long time. Especially that festival. Playing games, just talking to them, and then fighting and winning a simple arena pit fight had been awesome.

The trip up north had even been good. The swamp and Hupperdook had both been different kinds of weird, but with the Mighty Nein she found a rhythm, a place. Molly had helped, just by being there, but all of them welcomed her. She hadn’t expected that so soon, even the carnival had taken longer to warm up to her.

Yasha was grateful to the Stormlord for giving her time.

Each of them had folded her into the group in their own ways. It was weird. And she found a little hope in her heart, small as a pebble and something she’d push aside, that she could stay with them for a long time. She’d of course go where ever Molly went, but she was finding herself hoping, for himself and her, that the Mighty Nein would always welcome them both.

 

Again. Again. Again.

Like Zuala, he’d grounded her. Like Zuala, he’d been a home. Like Zuala, it was because of her.

He was gone. He was gone, and she hadn’t been there. Molly was gone and Yasha had no one again.

Yasha was alone again. But it won’t happen again.

She swore it won’t. As she left for the Stormlord, left the lonely, brilliant coat on the side of the road and the people they’d both found, Yasha swore that she won’t lose anyone else. Loss won’t be apart of her life anymore.

And as she followed the Stormlord, that heavy stone became an avalanche again.

 

Meeting in the Mighty Nein in Nicodranas hadn’t been the plan. But they folded her back in. She tried not to talk to them too much. She’d sworn not to lose anyone again. And loss won’t happen if there’s distance.

People can’t lose people they don’t know, they don’t talk to.

And they’d replaced him so quickly. Molly was irreplaceable, but here Caduceus was. Maybe that wasn’t fair. And Molly certainly was disappointed with her, wherever the dead go and watch the ones the left.

Yasha felt bad about it, she actually did. It wasn’t fair of her. Caduceus couldn’t understand, and neither could the rest of the Nein.

But throughout the disaster that was their voyage at sea, they pulled her back in. Fjord needed everyone’s help, and she was there. Nott needed support to hide and shoot from far away. Caleb depended on being protected or else. Ignoring Jester was like ignoring flowers or butterflies. Caduceus, his quiet calm and his odd understanding was endearing despite it all. Beau needed another person to be in melee with her, and Yasha would not think beyond that and would not look too much in her flirting (it could be hard to ignore).

They could survive on their own, they’d done it before her of course. Getting close to them, she had sworn off it. They all just need each other for their own ends.

But thoughts like that added to the weight of the rocks crushing her heart and mind.

 

Yasha understands now. She understands why the Stormlord had called her to the coast. But it still hurts.

Telling Jester and Caduceus helps her in ways she can’t pin down. It was almost like telling Molly, but not exactly. The tea and the two clerics sitting by her were like campfires on a chilly winter night.

And after fighting the lightning, she lets herself think. She lets herself think of the Mighty Nein. She lets herself think of Zuala and Molly.

Guilt and sorrow still weigh on her. And the guilt has even grown, for how she tried to push them all away. But, it’s less like boulders.

Maybe it will grow heavier. But, she won’t run again. Yasha will take the Stormlord’s, Jester’s, and Caduceus’ words to heart.

Avoiding loss by avoiding them will do nothing. She might be cursed or unlucky, or whatever. But she will do what she does best. She’ll do what she should’ve for Zuala and Molly. She’ll succeed where she failed.

She hopes they’ll be proud of her. Wherever they are, she hopes they’ve found each other like she’s found the Mighty Nein. And she’ll keep thinking of them. She’ll keep collecting flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so everyone else cried at Yasha's playlist, right?   
> that playlist honestly pulled together this whole chapter, and that and this post helped me pick the word  
> and here’s my tumblr


	5. Jester

desire

[dih-zahyuhr]

_verb_

  1. to wish or long for; crave; want.
  2. to express a wish to obtain; ask for; request



_noun_

  1. a longing or craving, as for something that brings satisfaction or joy
  2. an expressed wish; request
  3. something desired



Jester stared out the window, her little nose pressed against it. It was a rainy day, gray clouds covering the sky that matched the color of her horns. But there was still sunlight making the wet world shine almost like mama’s jewels, especially the buildings with colorful roofs or walls.

Her breath fogged the glass a little. She dragged her fingers through it, drawing her and mama. She grinned at the picture and turned to her mama.

“Mama, look! I drew us outside,” Jester shouted.

Her mama winced, brush halfway through her pretty hair. She finished the stroke as she said, “Jester dear, it’s not polite to shout inside. And I’m not so far away from you.”

“Sorry mama,” Jester whispered as she walked over to her.

Mama smiled and shook her head, but she came over to Jester. She sat at the window seat next to her. “Let’s see, I’m that one, yes?”

“No mama, don’t be silly! You’re the big one with the big sweeping horns,” Jester said, squinting up at her mama.

She chuckled and said, “Oh, I’m silly?”

With that, mama picked up Jester and blew a raspberry into her cheek. Jester shrieked. Mama’s fingers danced on her ankle, her shoulders and neck. Jester shrieked and giggled. She tried to escape, but mama was very strong. She tickled at Jester’s horns, blew another raspberry on Jester’s arm. She laughed and blew one on mama’s shoulder. Mama laughed and let go.

Jester scrambled and ran off, yelling, “Can’t catch me, can’t catch me!”

Mama tried though, she tried very hard. And just as Jester was going to climb the wardrobe, mama grabbed her and bounced her in the air. Jester giggled and shrieked.

Huffing a bit, mama set Jester down and said, “You’re getting awfully big my little sapphire, soon you’ll be a big girl.”

“I’m already a big girl,” Jester argued as she followed her mama back to her vanity. “I can reach lots of things on my own.”

She pulled Jester into her lap before going back to her hairdo. “M-hm. I know you can, but big girls also are a little older than four, my sweet.”

Jester nodded along, staring at her and her mama’s reflections. She and mama looked very different. She was blue, and mama was red, and they had different types of noses. Mama had said that was because of papa.

“Mama, I want to see papa.”

She paused, and Jester saw her expression change several different ways before becoming one of those smiles she sometimes got. “I do too.”

Mama kissed the top of her head right between her horns. They sat in silence for a couple seconds before Jester started singing very loudly about invisible unicorn hamsters and talking donuts being friends. Very soon mama was smiling again, and Jester even got her to laugh so hard that she messed up her kohl. Mama could hardly scold her, she was giggling so bad.

Jester felt very accomplished as she eavesdropped on mama’s song later that night and how mama was using her story, just without them being hamsters or donuts.

 

Jester watched the dinner floor and the people coming to either listen to mama or spend the night with her. She glared at some of them who might be taking her mama away from her for the night. Now, she knew mama had a job, and these people were why Jester could have such pretty paints and stuff, but she missed her mama when she had to go to work.

She left the stairwell before anyone could notice her. Jester knew the rule about being seen, and she didn’t want to upset mama. But she was already feeling lonely.

Sure, a few of the staff knew about her. But only the ones that directly served mama and her. They were very nice, and Jester loved to play with them. Like, untying ribbons or paintings aprons or hooves. But, they didn’t always want to play with her. And tonight they wouldn’t want to, since mama had an important person tonight.

Alone, Jester went to her room and closed the door. She held a stuffed animal close to her, staring at her drawings on her walls. The suns and trees and ocean, and the unicorns and magic stuff.

An idea, and Jester found her favorite book. She flipped to her favorite story, the one she had mama read the most. Squinting at the words, she reread her favorite part.

Then she sat up straight, and like the little elf girl in the drawing, asked aloud, “Please, pretty please with sugar and cinnamon and sprinkles on top, I need a friend, I’m very lonely.”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t just like the story. But, it was close enough. The elf girl was praying for help. Jester was kind of praying for a sort of help, technically.

So, she waited. And waited. And waited.

And she fell asleep waiting.

But a tap on her forehead woke her up. She scrubbed at her eyes and looked all around her. Moonlight was coming through her windows, but she couldn’t see anyone. Jester squinted into the shadows looking all around.

Something tugged her hair ribbon. Jester gasped as she saw it float. She giggled, very quietly since it was night and little girls need to be asleep at night, and reached for the ribbon. It floated even higher. She reached and reached. It got a little farther.

And she fell off the bed.

She rubbed at her horn as someone chuckled. And then a person in a green cloak held her ribbon out for her. Jester took it. And her new friend booped her on the nose.

 

“Mama?”

“Yes Jester,” she muttered, leaning forward into her book.

“Can we go outside?”

Jester waited, not looking at mama. She just focused on her drawing in front of her, remembering the morning’s view from her window. It had been very pretty, with lots of banners and colors. Blude had said it was a festival.

It felt like an eternity, even if it was just a few seconds, before mama said, “Oh. Well, I can ask one of the maids to take you. I think Serene would love to see the festival-”

Jester looked up at her mama. She looked a little nervous, glancing out the window with a tight pinch to her eyes. Jester knew that look. And she knew where this was going. But she had to try.

“But, I don’t want to go with her. I want to go with you mama,” Jester said, holding up her picture. “See? I drew us going to the cake stall! It’s very close. And we could stand under awnings too, so you don’t have to see the sky.”

“Jester…”

“Please mama, please?”

“Jester, it’s not that simple,” mama said, her book down and one hand tugging on her shawl’s fringes. “The outdoors, there’s just so much, and it isn’t about the sky. It’s that there’s just so much.”

“But the Traveler says it’s good to go outside sometimes,” she argued, remembering her talk with him before mama had woken up.

“The Traveler?” mama asked, her voice a little strange.

“Uh-huh. He’s my bestest friend. We talk all the time, and he tells me stories about how cool it is to go all over the place and has even told me stories about his own travels,” Jester explained and pointed at the green cloak near her and her mama in the picture. “See, I even added him with us, since he said he’s always with me because we’re friends.”

Mama nodded. She looked weirdly sad. But, she did ask Jester more questions about the Traveler and laughed at some of his stories she told her. She had a feeling mama didn’t really believe her about the Traveler, but he’d promised when she got even older he’d teach her some cool tricks and stuff, so then mama will know.

 

Jester walked along the road, humming to herself, as Fjord followed after her. She was very glad she’d found him after having to leave Nicodranas just because some jerk couldn’t take a joke. Honestly, if he hadn’t had such a fucking stick up his ass…

But anyway, Jester had a new friend. She looked over her shoulder and grinned a Fjord. He smiled back, kind of tipped his head to hear. She winked. He blushed a little and looked away. Jester grinned and turned her attention to the road again.

She missed her mama, she really did, but she was starting to get just what she’d always wanted.

The wind ruffled her hair from the wide-open world, and Jester smiled into the sun.

 

Trostenwald had been so much fun, and she liked these people so much. It was too bad Yasha couldn’t come with them. Jester would have liked to spend more time with her. But Molly and Yasha both said she’d be around soon again, so Jester focused on getting along with her other knew friends.

She didn’t have to do so much with Fjord, since she already knew him pretty well. And she and Beau were roommates, so she could ask Beau stuff whenever she wanted. But Molly, Nott and Caleb were new and weird.

Molly was kind of like the Traveler, and that made Jester really happy. She bet she could get him worshipping the Traveler too, they both liked fun and interesting stories. Though he was weird for a tiefling, but he probably just didn’t grow up around them. Nott and Caleb were weird just in general, but good weird. Nott was super awesome, and Jester hoped they’d become best friends soon, since they were already best detectives together. Caleb was stinky and kind of really quiet, but she bet she’d get him to smile soon. She was a lot of fun.

 

Zadash was amazing. Jester had missed being in a city where there’s lots to do all the time. She and her new friends did so much stuff, and she was able to tell the Traveler about so many cool things. Like Yasha just appearing at the bathhouse, the cool Pumat Sols and their awesome store, that she was right that Molly was weird for a tiefling (she was technically right that he hadn’t been raised by tieflings, since it’d been the circus and there were no tieflings there), and the job for the Gentleman. Who was weird and sweaty, but had a cool place.

And he also gave them a cool job exploring some ancient magic place. It had made Jester feel really cool, like a person from the stories her mama had bought for her or the Traveler had sometimes told her. And then the festival had been super cool and winning that fight had been awesome. Also, the dodecahedron was so weird and cool.

But all of that was a lot less important than the fact that she and everyone in the Mighty Nein were really getting closer. She looked forward to the next two jobs for the Gentleman. They were sticking together and getting to see even more of the world. Jester could hardly wait.

 

She missed Kiri but was glad she was safe with her family. Jester loved Hupperdook, and she knew Kiri would love it too. And the town had been super fun after all their hard work. Even if they had had to fight that weird robot, the Hour of Honor had been awesome.

Everyone had had fun! Even Caleb, though what he’d said made Jester a little sad. She wondered who that Astrid was, if thinking he was back with her had made him so happy. But, she just shook her head at that and tried to remember everyone else. Beau, Fjord, Nott, Yasha, and Kiri and… And Molly.

Jester sat in the dark, wishing she and Fjord and Yasha had been more careful. Then maybe Molly wouldn’t be gone. Seeing his grave had been awful, and seeing Yasha so sad had been horrible. Jester wanted to talk to the Traveler. But, he hadn’t come to her.

Jester had never wanted this. She wanted friends that would stick by her and she’d stick by them. And no one would ever have to feel lonely. Well, Jester did. And she hoped it would end.

 

Seeing mama again had been super awesome, even if it had been super short. And it was cool being on a boat. She and Caduceus got to talk a whole lot more than before. She liked him. He was nice. And she honestly didn’t feel like pranking him. He was too easygoing for that. But talking with him about their gods, and his in particular had been very nice.

Being at sea had also been really nice, until the _Squaleater_ and that awful island. Jester didn’t like Avantika, and she didn’t like what being around her was doing to Fjord. He was acting less like the gentleman she’d met all those months ago, and more like a pirate. Which was cool. But, if he kept going like this, he might leave her and the Mighty Nein.

But, he had kissed her. But, she didn’t know what it meant. She really, really liked him. But, he was worrying her.

And Darktow. Wow. She and Nott, even though they messed up maybe a little bit, had done a really good job of breaking in even if Avantika figured out things were missing. Everyone did so amazing, and Beau had apparently been super awesome (which, duh, Beau was awesome but now everyone could see that too!), and everyone had used super cool magic stuff, and now the _Squaleater_ was theirs!

Jester tried not to think about what happened to Avantika.

Oh, and Twiggy had been so cute. And Nott was still her best friend, which was very good. And Caleb had been so excited about the Happy Fun Time Ball. And everyone had had fun in the library.

The dragon hadn’t been fun at all. At that moment, she had just wanted her mama. She had just wanted to see one of her friends.

But the Traveler had been there for her. And Nott had basically saved her. And she was safe now.

 

After coming back to Nicodranas, Jester let herself relax. She could see mama again, and Fjord would stop being weird (but at least he was being better about the Traveler, she’d hate it if the Traveler and Fjord weren’t on good terms). It was a little silly, maybe, but she felt safer now that they would be away from the sea and from Uko’toa ( _Uko’toa_ ). She’d always be Fjord’s friend, but she didn’t want him to turn evil.

 

Jester is so very tired. It’s mostly from digging as a super cool dire honey badger for like, two hours straight. But yesterday was weighing heavily on her mind too. She doesn’t know what to think. She definitely knows how to feel, though.

And that is sad, very, very sad. Beau telling the truth, even if she hadn’t needed to, was super sweet of her and had made Jester feel good. But Nott and Caleb’s pasts…

Nott is a mother. Jester can see it now, how she always acted a little like how mama did, but that made her think of how she would feel if her mama had been through something like that. And how little Luke might feel. That poor little boy. Poor Yezza. And Nott, she must be so scared and sad. She couldn’t begin to think about how scary it would be, drowning and then having to spend a whole like three months out at sea and constantly underwater. Jester wanted to keep hugging Nott lots and lots, but they had to hurry.

Jester will help Nott get her husband back, no matter what. And even if he gets hidden, they are a super awesome detective duo. They’ll find Yezza. And then they’ll be a whole family.

Caleb isn’t telling them everything. He told them a ton, but Jester has a feeling that he’s hiding a lot still. He hates himself a lot about something, and Jester can’t help but wonder. She wants to know more. Is it connected to Astrid? Is there something about what he did before fleeing Ikithon? Is it why he goes silent when he burns people, and only when he burns people?

She hopes he’ll tell her. Even though he is very obviously very scared, she hopes that soon he won’t be so scared to tell them more. Jester makes a little mental note. When she can, she’ll talk to Caleb. She’ll tell him what she told Fjord.

She has always wanted friends, and now that she has them, she won’t lose them. To themselves or to others. It doesn’t matter.

Jester loves her friends. And she doesn’t mind if they’re mean or bad. As long as they’re friends, Jester will be by their side and they’ll be by hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this is late, but writer's block and course readings got me!  
> and here’s my tumblr


	6. Caleb Widogast

sentimentality  
[sen-tuh-men-tal-i-tee]  
_noun_  
1\. the quality or state of being sentimental or excessively sentimental.  
2\. an instance of being sentimental.  
3\. a sentimental act, gesture, expression, etc.

 

He had a perfect memory. It was both a blessing and a curse.

 

It hadn’t been perfect when he was very little. Sometimes food had been a little scarce, sometimes he would have done something wrong and one of his parents got angry. But if was scared, his parents were there. They loved him, they supported him, they were always there for him.

He remembered his name being said with love, annoyance or worry. He remembered his name being called for dinner. He remembered his name being shouted with joy when he showed off his first spell, the one he’d learned all on his own.

No one could really remember if his name was Bren, or if it was just a nickname that became a first name. But he remembered how his father joked that it matched his hair. And how mother had teased that it matched his love of the hearth (and father would say that it just showed that Bren was his mother’s son).

Bren had always just liked being warm, just like mother. When they weren’t working their farm, he sat there with mother and the only cat allowed to stay inside. The others protected the barn. The inside cat, an orange tabby, liked the fire as much as he and mother, and would alternate between his as he read whatever magic books he could and hers as she embroidered.

Frumpkin was named for an illustrious and important member of the family, after all.

 

In the Soltryce Academy, he learned.

Learned, and made truly good friends. The three of them had spent days curled near each other, studying everything. They proved their worth, over and over. And they had taken turns caring for each other. He had made sure Astrid stayed warm in the drafty academy, so she wouldn’t catch another cold. She had made sure Eodwulf would go to sleep in a timely manner, so that he wouldn’t fall asleep in lecture again. And he had made sure Bren ate, since he often forgot to eat while studying or when too anxious over tests.

Then as one of Trent Ikithon’s chosen few, he learned.

Learned, learned, learned. They had to rise above the masses and lead the way with the brilliance of their intellect. The best way was to serve Master Ikithon and the empire. To not cry out against the tests, to show no horror at their duties, to never question those who knew better.

The three of them still took care of each other. Bren, Astrid, Eodwulf. They could depend on each other. Bren made sure Astrid was on time. Astrid made sure Eodwulf wouldn’t get infections. Eodwulf made sure Bren would get out of bed.

As his home burned, he learned.

His memory was perfect, but time was lost. He remembered, he often thought he did. But he couldn’t always track it. He remembered days passing. He remembered when the staff decided he couldn’t be near fire. He remembered when that woman came. He remembered when he decided to run.

 

The first bright light in a long time. Frumpkin. Not quite the same, not exactly right. But similar to the past. Like him. But not like him. Frumpkin deserved such a good name, a name from his family. He did not. He didn’t deserve home.

Unless…

Maybe Bren could deserve home again. He could not. If he just found a way to change the past. Then Una and Leofric could have their lives and their son.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d done it. But for a few days now, he and the goblin had been journeying together. Nott the Brave, she had introduced herself as. Caleb Widogast, he had said in return, the newest in a long line of false names.

Those few days lengthened into weeks. Those weeks lengthened into months. He wasn’t sure why they had lasted so long. Or why either of them had stuck around. But they had.

And then she helped save his life, and they met some very colorful, very noticeable, but full of potential people.

Joining them wasn’t an easy decision. But he was very weak, and with them he’d have safety to grow strong enough. And Nott liked them, and they were good to Nott.

But if worst came to worst, she promised that she would be at his side.

Caleb Widogast and Nott the Brave. They could depend on each other. As long as she didn’t know Caleb’s past.

 

Nearly a month with these people, and he’d nearly died a few times. But, in nearly a month with these people and he was so much stronger. And in nearly a month, they were starting to feel like a cohesive unit.

But, they knew now. Both Beau and Nott. He told Beau for the library, the chance that it could have what he needs. A calculated risk, maybe a stupid risk. But, for Caleb’s plans to even remotely work, he needs every book he can get to.

And Nott, she deserved to know. She needed to know just what she’s supported and protected. It wouldn’t have been fair to her.

Caleb still hid so much from them.

But he had still told them so much.

They could tell the group, kick Caleb out, abandon him, treat Caleb how he deserves to be treated for his sins.

But Beau seemed to… She seemed to feel sorry for _him_.

Nott said she still supported _him_.

Caleb did not deserve this. He will never deserve this. Not until he has fixed his mistake.

And then, well, he won’t be Caleb then.

 

Did Nott know? Did he say something in his sleep? She used his name, the name his parents had called him, that name he did not deserve anymore. Did she know? Did she know?

No.

It was just a coincidence.

 

They had made a calculated risk. But it had been different from the others they’d made, he’d made, before. Bad information, incomplete information.

Ikithon had taught him better than that.

No, being on his own experiences had taught him better (don’t rely on his teachings, dumbass). Time with the Mighty Nein and their collective shitstorms had taught Caleb (he is Caleb here, not Bren Aldric Eomundrud, not Ikithon’s student) to be smarter. Calculated risks without all the numbers were deadly.

Molly was dead because of bad information and bad luck.

Caleb helped bury him, left a note with him. After all, the impossible had happened once. It could happen again.

But it also meant, chasing Lorenzo, chasing the other three, could mean his death. And he could not die yet. Caleb could not die until his parents lived. Then…

But Nott, she became ever more sure. She loved them. She wanted to get the other three out. She wanted to free them.

The Mighty Nein were her friends.

She wanted him to say as much too.

(He couldn’t have friends though. Didn’t she understand? After what he’s done, and if they ever knew…)

But he would help them. He had followed them this far. He knew them. They knew him.

He… Caleb, he…

They had debts to repay each other, yes. Yes, he can work with that.

Nila and Keg chose to continue with them for their own reasons. And when they went to Ophelia, Caleb led the talk. And when they went to Caduceus, Caleb led the talk.

Lorenzo killed Frumpkin.

Caleb needed Frumpkin. After everything, without his cat, after everything, he needed Frumpkin. He needed the only anchor that would never turn on him.

And Lorenzo had killed his cat.

(And Molly and the Mighty Nein’s confidence and whatever safety they had.)

Lorenzo burned. And Caleb would not slip into the nowhere he normally went. No, he would watch.

 

Chaos apparently just followed them around, their very own shadow.

At least Jester got to see her mother. And now Fjord could get some closure, some answers. And all the while, Caleb recalculated and recalculated. What risks could they take? What risks should they take?

Avantika was dangerous. Fjord could prove to be the same. Nott was almost constantly drunk because of the water, making her reckless.

And Caduceus had nearly died too many times in quick succession. Caleb had given him the periapt. He was responsible for getting Caduceus involved in the Mighty Nein.

It was just smart. And this way, there would be less risks. Hopefully Beau and Yasha could help curb the risks further, being both so strong.

At least they weren’t in the empire anymore.

Caleb found himself relaxing a little, despite everything. Just a little, just by inches.

 

Across the _Squalleater_ ’s deck, fire roared. They fought. Impossibly, they won.

But still, even with Avantika’s journal, they were missing so much information.

Fjord lead them to the shipwreck, and Caleb watched him. He wondered if things were catching up to Fjord. If the stress was getting to him, if he had lied about not wanting to release Uko’toa. Or if he had changed his mind.

Caleb understood Fjord wanting to see the shipwreck. He didn’t know everything, but he understood the emotions. Fjord needed to know. He needed to be reassured.

Caleb understood those drives.

And he understood making deals. And he understood where it came from. And Caleb hates himself.

Just like how Ikithon had taught the three of them. Make a deal, collect debts than run deeper than any pocket. Use a person’s own self to you benefit.

Caleb hated himself after that. Especially after finding out what Dashilla’s alter did.

And then, for a moment, he was distracted.

Twiggy was odd, and her arcane orb was even odder. It was a puzzle, fascinating and complex. And Caleb felt positively giddy. He’d always loved puzzles.

And the library of such an ancient wizard?

It was truly wonderful.

Until it wasn’t.

“I just need time,” she had said, trying to get them to stay.

Caleb argued for hurrying after getting a few more, joining the rest wherever Fjord had sent himself too. She had asked if he wanted anymore books, needed any more books. And he had wanted those books. He still needs those books.

Any other time, he would have wanted to stay. Any other time, he would have loved that Nott was getting as many books as possible for him. But panic had settled in.

“We need the spell books,” she’d said.

“I need them.”

And they’d fallen right into a blue dragon’s lair. And Jester had nearly died. And Nott had nearly died.

Caleb couldn’t wait until they got on land again.

 

Why couldn’t Beau just understand?

Yes, he was excited about magic. Yes, he was interested in that wizard’s tower. But it had been too huge a risk. Just because he was against the Clovis Concord didn’t mean he was against the Dwendalian Empire. And if he had been friends of the empire, if he had known Ikithon, if he had recognized Caleb and known than everyone could have been killed because of him.

He tried to explain to her why he was scared. But she didn’t understand. He was scared for them. Caleb had stayed so long, and he was afraid. He wanted them safe. He wanted his friends safe.

 

Nott is not Nott. Nott is Veth, and because of his people (she was right, Nott was so often right) her husband has been kidnapped by the Kyrnn. Nott has a child, a little son. She had died and come back.

And gods, whatever help she needed, he would give. She deserves so much more. And, he needs to tell the group so that they know. So that they understand.

He tells more and less of the truth than before.

He hopes they understand the danger of his people.

He hopes, if he ever does tell the rest, that they do not hate him.

After all, they do not hate him despite his using them. And he knows what they said. That he isn’t using them, that it was just something friends did.

But he does use Beau’s spine, her confidence. He uses Nott’s, well, everything Nott has ever given. He uses Jester’s odd kindness, her faith in him that he knows will be shattered but hopes never is. He uses Fjord’s and Caduceus’ simple support.

So kindly, they ask what to call him and Nott. Nott stays the same, as does he. But not for the same reasons.

He had spent only half his life as Bren Aldric Eomundrud.

Until he fixes everything, he can’t. And beyond that, he isn’t Bren Aldric Eomundrud.

And he’ll do as Beau asks. He won’t run. He’ll stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so glad i've waited to do caleb as like second or third to last, because ep 49 was an eye opener  
> but yeah, the word choice is base off of liam's responses to a couple questions in the talks machina for ep 41 which has been rattling in my head for the past two episodes  
> and as always, and here’s my tumblr


	7. Nott the Brave

devotion

[dih-voh-shuhn]

_noun_

  1. profound dedication; consecration.
  2. earnest attachment to a cause, person, etc.
  3. an assignment or appropriation to any purpose, cause, etc.



 

It was weird. It hadn’t really meant that much, Veth knew. It was just a game, basically a dare. But Yeza had kissed her, and it made her stomach do funny things when she thought about it. And she’d started noticing him out of the corner of her eyes a little more. He’d even sometimes talk to her or give her something to add to her collections. A pretty rock, a nicely colored feather, and once a pretty flower.

Veth knew he was getting made fun of for doing that. But he kept doing that. He was still being nice to her, and a little shy around her.

Tomorrow, she’ll talk to him. But right now, she’ll go to sleep.

 

She wondered if every marriage ceremony was like theirs, or if theirs had been special and unique. Because to Veth, it felt that way. It felt like their vows had been extra beautiful, their cake extra sweet, and the sky extra blue. Everything had just felt better.

And of course she’d known for a very long while that Yeza loved her back. But to hear him say it. To hear him say that he’d always be devoted to her, her love and happiness and wellbeing…

Well, kissing was the only option after that. A long, lovely night of kissing and more.

More that had led to Luke as they continued working on Yeza’s dream job, his own little shop. Setting him up, making and selling wares, ignoring the odd snide comment. Just keeping their minds focused where they needed to be. On Luke and keeping a curious baby, and then toddler, occupied and safe. On her and Yeza and their burgeoning business and still young marriage. On keeping her family safe.

Her family. Her very own family. Her husband that supported her hobbies and laughed at her jokes, even though they really were awful puns. Her son, a walking, talking menace that she loved so much her heart nearly burst every time he toddled to her, begging to be picked up.

And after the attack, after being captured, after escaping, her decision was easy. Well, no. It was hard. It was so, so hard. But she used Yeza’s acid, she used her wits.

And Veth lost.

 

Escaping the goblins took a while. But eventually Ve-

No, not Veth. Not herself, not a halfling, not anything that anyone would recognize and not alive. Not really. Everyone would think she was dead. And she basically was.

She had to find a way to reverse this. To get back her life. Her life with her husband and her baby boy, the only life she wanted.

 

The village was tiny, but big enough to have a pitiful jailhouse and two prisoners counting her. Her and a lump of clothing she’d eventually realized was a human man. A very weird one, one that seemed to refuse to live even as he clung to life. It was sad, and a little pathetic.

But, he was very smart. And he was a wizard. According to the guards at least. Nott would admit to not knowing a lot about magic, but a wizard would. A wizard could figure out how to help her. If that wizard was powerful enough, and if that wizard liked her enough…

Well, it wasn’t a very nice thing to think. But Yeza and Luke thought she was _dead_. And as long as she was a goblin, she basically was. And maybe it was a very goblin thing to think, to steal another prisoner in her escape and use him like a tool, but right now she was a goblin. And she was going to use that.

Getting out of the jail hadn’t been easy, and the days following weren’t either. The human, a Caleb Widogast, was weird and kind of reminded her of herself. Averse to water (or maybe just cleanliness), nervous as a rabbit surrounded by wolves (she wondered why, he was already rather powerful), and sticking with her out of some odd motive (had to be that, no one would willingly travel with a goblin if they had better options).

But, as time passed, Caleb started reminding Nott more and more of her son. He was bright, loved learning, and sometimes nearly as helpless as her toddler had been. She found herself helping him more, worrying over his almost constant inability to eat, and fiercely protecting him as they journeyed. Nott wasn’t an idiot. She had grown attached to Caleb and protecting him wasn’t entirely about protecting her future.

Nott wanted Caleb to be safe, just so that he’d be safe.

But, she’d need help with that.

And then fate did. It gave her five new people to protect her and Caleb. To protect their futures, and the goals they were both using the other for (Nott would be a hypocrite to resent that). Luck was with her, because these people were fun.

Jester was a delight, an almost instant friend. Fjord was polite, Beau and Molly were abrasive but fun. And Yasha was a little tall and scary. But they’d keep her and Caleb safe.

 

How could Molly not want to know anything about his past? What if he’d had a family? A lover? Friends? What if he had, well, anything at all?

Nott couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Caleb did though, and so did the rest, eventually. And she supposes she can accept that Molly just doesn’t care if he lost anything. Maybe it was because he was basically two. He didn’t know enough to miss or wonder.

She did though. And she wondered if she hadn’t remembered them, would she care enough to get back to Yeza and Luke? Nott thought she would. Maybe only enough to see Luke again. She was still a mother, after all, and stories always talk about the power of a mother’s love.

Caleb was proof enough that she had those mothering instincts still. He was her boy, even though she was still using him to try and get her old life back. But it was a mutual using, though he did think of her as a little girl or something like that. A thought flitted to her, and she barely stifled a smile. How would Yeza react to her having functionally adopted a thirty-year-old human? He’d probably laugh his ass off. But he was a good, kind man, the best of all men. He’d understand.

And then, she was even surer that he would understand. Nott didn’t know about Beau, but now she understood Caleb better, and every instinct screamed to protect. To be there for him and support him.

Nott tried to comfort him after he told them everything. It was a terrible, horrible crime. Ikithon deserved nothing less than death for what he’d done to her boy, those other children, and gods only knew how many others. She wanted to tear that man to shreds. But it was up to Caleb, and it was his revenge to take.

But he wasn’t thinking about that now. He was just refusing to understand it wasn’t his fault. That he’d been a child, and though he’d chosen to do it he was now dedicating everything to reversing that. For only a moment, she wondered if telling him anything (about how she would have felt, had it been Luke and her and Yeza instead) but her throat closed up at the thought.

She just comforted him as best she could. She was not his mother. But he was her boy. And Nott hoped it was enough.

 

She technically told them the truth. She had lived in a goblin clan for a while. She and Yeza had become friends before falling in love. She had escaped, they had been cruel.

Nott told them enough of the truth. They didn’t need to know more.

 

Caleb was acting so oddly. Was it because she’d called herself Bren? Did he used to know a Bren? Or was it something else? He wouldn’t say if she asked, she knew. So Nott let it go.

 

Poor Molly. Poor, poor Molly. He didn’t deserve what had happened. Neither had Fjord, Yasha, or Jester. But they won’t be lost like Molly. She won’t lose any more of her friends. She loves them. Caleb won’t admit it (he’s always so scared, especially of attachment, and she does understand), but those are their friends, Beau is their friend, and they won’t lose anyone else.

And they don’t.

And the case of the Missing Friends is closed.

And they see Molly’s grave, and Nott keeps her eye on them as they leave without Yasha. Getting captured and tortured does strange things to people. She knows that first hand. So, she’ll keep her eye on Fjord and Jester. And if Jester wants to play a prank in Zadash, Nott’ll help her with whatever loony plans she comes up with. That's what friends do.

 

She fucking hated that they ended up on the sea. It was just supposed to be a brief stop in Nicodranas. Get out of the empire as the war grew, let Jester and her mother see each other again, and figure out why Fjord swallows crystal balls and throws up seawater.

Nott was drunk most of the trip. It was the only way to stay sane. She was especially drunk when they went underwater, because fuck that and fuck Fjord and his button bullshit. He sounded like a lot of those bastards from Felderwind.

Twiggy was nice, but that arcane ball was fascinating. An entire ancient library, just for Caleb. It’s too bad they couldn’t have stayed there. But, Caleb had been a little right. And she was glad that he’d pushed to leave.

Jester had needed help, needed protecting. And, well, she was in a lot of ways Nott’s first friend in either of her lives. She was there for Jester, and she didn’t regret it.

 

Felderwin had been attacked. Her home was gone, her husband was kidnapped, but her son was safe. Her little Luke was safe, with Old Edith watching him.

And the basement, fuck, the basement had just been extra storage the last time she’d been home. But her husband had worked for the empire, doing or researching something. And then something, she didn’t know what, happened. Had it been Caleb’s people? Had his fucking past come to hurt her family, her son, her _husband_?

But then Caduceus got the alcohol out of her system. They got away. And she told them all the truth.

They all understood. And Caleb, he did as she wanted, he told the Mighty Nein his past. Told both more and less.

And it was funny. They’d both been using different names because of dead pasts. Bren Aldric Eomundrud. Veth Bernatto.

The Mighty Nein listened to them both (and Caleb and Beau, they’d come long way, and Nott couldn’t help but be a little proud that Caleb went to Beau for comfort). And they understood. And they were going to help. Her friends understood her, apologized for the sea (about fucking time), and were going to help her find her husband no matter what.

 

Just thinking about seeing Yeza again terrified and excited her. But it propelled her forward. It made her brave.

Her whole-body hurts, everything is hot, and she’d nearly made it across the lava river. Just a slip, and she’d fallen. But then Beau, running faster than Nott could remember, got her. Beau got Nott to safety. And her boy had been brave enough to be last. To wait, keep them both safe.

There were still so many more miles to walk. But Nott is alive. She has her friends. They’re with her. And they’ll find her husband. They’re the Mighty Nein, and they’ll find her husband.

And of course she's scared. But they'll help her. And seeing Yeza again will mean the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the late chapter, but I hope y'all like it!  
> after this will be either a chapter for Molly or one for the Mighty Nein as a whole  
> and here’s my tumblr


	8. Mollymauk Tealeaf

youthful

[yooth-fuhl]

_adjective_

  1. characterized by youth; young in age
  2. of, relating to, or befitting youth in actions or mentality
  3. having the appearance, freshness, vigor, etc. of youth
  4. in an early period of existence; early in time



First, he was empty. Nothing but empty. An empty body that left an empty grave. No name, no voice, no memories, no nothing.

Sometimes, Molly had nightmares he was like that again. Empty like a cracked jug, almost a sieve. That he was back at the beginning of his life.

That he was just stumbling from his grave, dirty and alone. Feeling light for the first time, feeling wind for the first time, feeling everything for the first time and having known that something was off about that.

That Gustav had just found him, just welcomed him to the carnival. Huddling by the fire, unable to say anything, just watching and following. He played cards a lot with the Knot sisters and Toya back then. He’d had a lot of nightmares back then.

They’d given Molly his name, his clothing, his everything. The Fletching and Moondrop Carnival had been his family in every sense of the word. It was where he, Mollymauk Tealeaf, had been raised and where whoever his body had belonged to really died (Molly wouldn’t be the kind to be buried alive, forgotten and destitute in the forest like _he_ had been).

 

He’d been the one to bring Yasha into their carnival. Gustav had been grumbling about needing more muscle. And, hey, she had muscle. Sure, there were spats about welcoming her in, taking on another mouth to feed and pay. But they saw he was right, eventually.

Since they were the newest, they shared a tent. She wasn’t talkative, and he was a little too talkative until they settled into each other’s spaces. And then Yasha would talk with him, little bursts of conversation late at night after either he or she had had a nightmare.

He told her stories about the carnival and about life on the road. A lot of it was true, a lot of it was bullshit. They kind of made a game of it, he believed. Yasha got pretty good at telling when the story was as fake as the gold jewelry he wore on his horns, and with a tiny little smile would call him on his shit.

She would tell him stories too. Life in Xhorhas, life on the road, or things that she’d done. Sometimes she would start a story, but wouldn’t continue, always stopping before introducing a particular person to the narrative. Molly didn’t mind that. One day she might tell him, or she never will. He’d gotten used to not knowing things.

 

Yasha had said that she would sometimes leave. That the Stormlord would call on her. Molly had known that, he remembered that. But he’d woken up, the air smelling like rain, and Yasha was gone.

She hadn’t said a thing. Just left in the night in the storm. And no one had heard her or seen her leave. Yasha was just gone.

She’d said she would though. Molly knew that. He knew that. And he had the rest of the carnival. They were still around. Even if they were fewer than when Gustav had brought him in.

Things always changed. People eventually left. That’s just carnie life. Nothing’s ever permanent. Molly knew that. He knew that.

 

She came back, just like she said she would. Molly wasn’t sure how she’d found them again. But it was so simple. They’d been setting up the carnival at a crossroads that was growing into a village. And Molly had turned around for some rope, and Yasha was there, handing it to him.

Molly might have overreacted.

Sure, he was paid to be dramatic and loud. But only on the clock. He wasn’t, technically, when Yasha came back.

And it was a little while later, after everything had been set up and the evening stew done, when she’d come up to him and said, “I’d said that I would have to leave.”

“Why though? What’s the Stormlord have you doing,” Molly asked, working on shuffling his tarot cards, making sure he had his new card trick perfect and not because he was pouting no matter what Orna would end up saying. “I doubt one woman, no matter how muscular she is, can do a lot for a god.”

For a few moments, she was silent. And when he took advantage of his pupil-less eyes to spy on her expression, it wasn’t an angry one. Just a confused, thinking one. Her brow was all scrunched, and her eyes clear.

Steady as ever, she said, “He gives me what he thinks I can do. And I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you angry Molly?”

He shuffled his cards, refusing to pull any in particular out, and said, “You were just gone. And I didn’t know before. You hadn’t left during other storms.”

She shrugged, dislodging some of her braids from her shoulders. “He does not always need me. But I could tell you when he calls on me.”

“I would like that.”

And she did next time. And he still missed her. And she came back.

By the third time, he was used to it. She had some weird sixth sense, maybe from being an aasimar, that let her find them. Or maybe it was the Stormlord’s doing. Molly was partial to the Moonweaver himself, but he doubted she would mind if he offered something to the Stormlord. He’d have to ask Yasha, when she was back again, what the Stormlord liked most in prayers to him.

 

Before Molly knew it, he was telling Yasha his story. It was an odd experience. Everyone else who’d known, they’d known because they’d been there. But she hadn’t. But she deserved to know.

In return, she told him those missing pieces from her other stories. The person whose name her words had always gotten stuck on. He listened to everything Yasha would recount. And then, he helped her to find a way to keep every lovely flower she found for her wife.

There were a lot of stories about soulmates. People loved love, and really loved the idea of never being alone. Which he understood. Molly understood that very well. And some of those stories told of soulmates that weren’t partners, but instead the greatest of friends.

Molly would make himself smile, thinking that that was why Yasha always found them. It didn’t make sense, since wouldn’t Yasha know where her wife was buried? Or maybe it was for souls, not bodies. After all, he knew better than most that those things were separate.

He wondered if, when he inevitably died, if he’d get to meet her then. It’d be nice.

 

They had been a gloomy group, and they certainly had livened up after seeing the carnival. But, everything that had followed, well, Molly hadn’t fucking planned on that. Gods, he was going to miss them all. Gustav, Desmond, Toya, Orna, the Knot sisters, Bo the not-unpleasant one, and, gods, Kylre… He was going to miss them. Molly had known them his whole life. And now, he just had Yasha and these strangers.

But, he did like Jester. She was fun, and he loved whatever god it was she prayed to (not as much as the Moonweaver, of course). So was Fjord, Caleb and Nott were just fascinating (he wondered how they met, that must be one hell of a story), and Beau was fun to argue with. They weren’t the carnival. But by the gods, he’d make it work.

And, at least, it seemed they all wanted it to work too. The gnolls had tested them all, but, hey, they all were alive. Though, he was getting more curious. The whole group was swimming in stories and half-truths. Molly would never call them on that, of course. He was a firm believer in abandoning the past.

 

Though, of course, not everyone was like him. And of course, that past bastard had a friend, a follower, a someone in Zadash. Cree. And now they were coworkers under the Gentleman’s thumb. And yeah, Jester was a cleric so of course she had a truth spell thing in her back pocket.

Nott hadn’t understood. She kept trying to bring up why he should care, but, honestly, he didn’t. And Molly doubted Lucien actually really had any people Molly would want to meet. He certainly hadn’t had anyone who cared enough to try and track Lucien down. No. Molly was Mollymauk Tealeaf.

He appreciated that Caleb seemed to get it right away, and that after him the rest followed. None of them seemed to understand though, not entirely at least. Not as well as Yasha had, in any case. But that just showed how special Yasha was. She got him. She understood.

And if after meeting Cree he was up later than normal, she understood that too.

 

He’d never really had the chance to experience a festival as anything other but a performer. Playing the games, watching the rest of the Nein having fun, and spending a stupid amount of money on the Platinum Dragon rug had Molly grinning. It was weirdly relaxing. Even the fight had been a fun one, one where of course there were stakes, but there were powerful healers on standby. They hadn’t had anything to worry about.

And then relaxing in the Pillow Trove and having some fun with two lovely people, well he’d been itching to have more fun. They’d been damn good. After that, he’d joined the rest of the Nein and just relaxed. For a moment, they all just did nothing but talk. Molly hoped this would continue.

 

Kiri was a cute bird kid, he guessed. And he understood why Nott and Jester were fawning over the kid. But she wasn’t going to be around for long. That was just a fact. They could barely keep each other from dropping each fight, let alone a kid.

Molly would freely admit to knowing barely anything about kids. But he’d known Toya his whole life, and that had taught him that kids weren’t a liability an adventuring crew could drag along. He’d be nice to her, but he won’t let himself get attached like Jester and Nott were. Those two were going to have to learn that they’re all drifters. This’ll be a hard lesson, but they’ll learn it, just like he had.

 

Hupperdook, despite the automaton or whatever the fuck, had been fun. The Hour of Honor, the dancing, the fireworks had been so goddamn wonderful. He’d honestly had a ton of fun, despite everything.

And it was sad, leaving Kiri, especially with how hard Nott and Jester took it. But hey, the little bird had a family again, and one that probably wouldn’t abandon her to crocodiles. That was good. It was good not to be alone, to have a family.

 

Yasha disappears sometimes, sure. But not like this. And Jester and Fjord definitely didn’t just up and leave like that. Sure, Molly had only known those two for like a month, a month and a half, but he knew them well enough. And Beau, Nott, and Caleb were on the same wavelength as him. They also thought it was fucking weird.

The only thing to do, of course, was to try and find them. Go after them, find their friends, get them back from whoever. Molly wanted them back. He’d admit that. He’d admit, to himself, that he wanted these friends back, even if they probably wouldn’t’ve done the same for him.

But Molly would be damned before he’d lose another home.

 

Keg had a good lead for them. Some people called the Iron Shepherds were apparently a likely culprit for kidnapping their friends. She even offered to help them, and they could all admit having another fighter would be good.

She was tough, though she certainly didn’t have good taste falling so quick for Beau. Or maybe she did. Molly could admit she was pretty, but they were definitely not on the same team in that regard. But maybe the unpleasant one would relax after getting laid.

 

Molly wasn’t surprised that Beau had once blackmailed some politicians. She’d seemed like someone who’d done that when she was younger and had done worse. Beau had seemed surprised though that his biggest lie he’d ever told had been pretending to be royalty.

What can Molly say? It’d been fun and had seemed pretty harmless. Molly remembered getting damn good wine from that.

That night had been calm, for all that they were all scared out of their minds for Yasha, Jester, and Fjord. Molly was surprised that Caleb and Nott were still around. But that was good. Maybe they were the kind to stick. He’ll try and be kinder to them, he promised himself. Maybe his suspicions weren’t needed anymore. Though, at the moment two others needed some kindness more.

The two firbolgs, old Jumnda and little Ombo, watched him mess up with his cards. It did cheer them both up. That was good. And the kid liked the charm he gave him. Molly would have to find a new one, after they saved their friends.

 

They had a plan, and it was actually pretty sound. Molly was proud of them. Once they got the other three back, they’d be so surprised by it!

 

Everything had gone to shit.

But Beau was going to be fine. Beau, Caleb, and Nott were going to be safe. And he wouldn’t blame Keg. She hadn’t known.

Molly had always known he was here for a good time, not a long time.

Lorenzo asked for last words, but there were too many, and they weren’t for the smug bastard above Molly.

He spat his blood.

It took forever for the glaive to come down.

Molly prayed to the Stormlord. He hoped he would tell Yasha for Molly. And he hoped the rest of the Mighty Nein wouldn’t get too upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's always missing molly hours y'all, and this post and this post really helped me with this chapter and choosing this word  
> and as per usual, here’s my tumblr


	9. the Mighty Nein

forward

[fawr-werd]

_adverb_

  1. toward or at a place, point, or time in advance; onward; ahead



_adjective_

  1. directed toward a point in advance; moving ahead; onward
  2. being in a condition of advancement



 

Fear and worry coursed through Nott. Xhorhas was less bad then she’d heard it would be, but it was still a little horrifying. Almost a whole group of soldiers died in less than a minute and then there’d been a giant fucking bird. She couldn’t imagine how Yeza was, what he’d seen.

And she couldn’t imagine being able to do this with the Mighty Nein. Her friends. Her, well, her family. Fjord was certainly annoying enough to be a brother, the shit. But even everyone else, only family would be stupid enough to do so much for someone.

And together, they were walking forward.

 

She’d had to read about Xhorhas and its geography once, for the monks because of some assignment. Beau wished she actually had and had done more than skimming the book or whatever. The travel hadn’t been to horrific, yet, and she hated thinking about what her parents had told her, but she couldn’t help but do that. They’d always said Xhorhas was horrible and deadly. And hey, they’d been right for once.

But wrong about the people. Yasha wasn’t leading them, since this wasn’t her home specifically, and she hadn’t been able to tell them a lot. But fuck it. They were the Mighty Nein. She’d gone from a pretty damn strong monk, to being able to fucking punch ghosts and shit in just a couple months.

They were going to get Nott her husband back, and they weren’t going to lose anyone else. Beau wasn’t going lose any of them. She’d keep them safe.

 

This was the farthest from the ocean Fjord had ever been. And he barely knew anything about Xhorhas, just the stuff he’d heard from Vandren and what he’d heard since crossing into the empire that first time. Which, fucking honestly, felt like years ago now. But yeah, the place was a fucking nightmare.

But hell, this was Nott’s husband. And the whole party had spent so much time at sea for his shit. _Nott_ had spent so much time at sea, on a boat, and underwater for him even though she’d died from drowning. And he’d been such an ass about it.

Fjord was going to try and do better, but he couldn’t help teasing her. He liked her. He liked all of the Mighty Nein. And it was only right they chase after Yeza for Nott. Families should stick together.

 

Caleb’s thoughts would return to everything he had learned about Xhorhas, and he would turn it over like his transmutation stone, wondering how much was propaganda and how much was truth. It was certainly a harsh, horrifying land. That roc had also been bigger than he’d remember reading that they could be.

But this was for Nott. Nott, who had a son. Nott, who had a captured husband. Nott, who was once a halfling.

After everything she’d done for him, helping her find her husband was the least he could do. He owed her so much it was incalculable. She’d followed and trusted him so many times, it was his turn to do the same.

Besides, she and the Mighty Nein needed him to keep them safe. And he will do that. He wanted them to be safe. Caleb will make sure they will be safe.

 

Jester didn’t like Xhorhas. It was just depressing. Though it was probably worse for Yasha. This was her homeland, where she’d lost her wife. And also probably worse for Nott too. She was probably thinking about what her husband must be going through and what it must have been like, him being all alone without friends in Xhorhas, just being dragged around by the Kriin.

But Nott wasn’t alone. Neither was Yasha, or Jester, or any of the Nein. They were altogether. And they were going to get Nott her husband back.

And how romantic! Nott and Yeza were going to reunite, and Yeza was definitely a good guy so the reunion will be super romantic and amazing and sweeter than anything ever. Yes, Jester was sure of this. And praying to the Traveler that he’ll help this all be true. But, he probably wouldn’t have to do much.

Nott was going to get her husband back. The whole family reunion, with Nott and Yeza and Luke, was going to be sweet and go well. And once they got him home safe to their son, the Mighty Nein will figure out what to do next.

 

Caduceus was not enjoying what he was seeing of Xhorhas. The land felt empty and hostile. It reminded him of the woods back home, but not quite. The source was different here, he could tell. And was much older.

With the Mighty Nein, he was definitely seeing more of the Wildmother’s domain than he ever had. Though, he didn’t know how to feel about what he’s seen of Xhorhas. The land was used to how it was, certainly. And so were its inhabitants, if Yasha’s reactions to the land were anything to go by.

Or maybe it was memories. He knew grief could be triggered by the oddest of things. He’d have to keep an eye out for her. Really, Caduceus would have to keep an eye out for all of them. Though, he should maybe watch Nott the most. Her husband was in danger, and she was already so protective of the Mighty Nein and would go to huge lengths for them, he didn’t doubt that for her husband she’d do anything.

Whether it was the land or the Mighty Nein, Caduceus had a feeling that going forward the journey was going to be a lot.

 

Being back in Xhorhas was odd. No, not just odd. Yasha felt like her guts were being twisted. It wasn’t her home, this specific place, but it reminded her of home a little.

And home made her think of Zuala. And Zuala made her think of Molly. And Molly made her think of losing the Mighty Nein.

She wouldn’t lose her friends to Xhorhas. And she will make sure Nott won’t lose her husband. No one should ever go through losing a spouse.

If she could do anything, if her strength was worth anything, they would all leave Xhorhas. Together, as long as they’d have her, they’d keep doing their wanderings. And together they would go on their next adventure, whatever it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all've enjoyed reading this! 
> 
> and as always, here’s my tumblr


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